Free Web NovelChapter 218: Chapter 218
They didn’t linger a moment longer. The three of them mounted the waiting horses in haste, urging the animals first into a brisk trot, then into a full gallop. Gerard rode behind the hooded stranger who had pulled him out of his cell, clinging to the man’s cloak for balance, while the second stranger rode several paces ahead, leading them down a narrow path.
Their instincts had been right. Just as they began to put meaningful distance between themselves and the arena gate, distant shouting echoed behind them. The noise carried on the cold night air, unmistakably coming from the place they had just escaped.
The more guards must have discovered his empty cell by now, their panicked cries warning the rest of the patrols that a prisoner was slipping through their grasp at that very moment.
After everything that had unfolded that night, Gerard should not have been surprised when the men veered off the familiar route and instead followed a narrow, winding path he had never seen before, one far too obscure for the guards to barricade in time. But still, his mind lagged behind, struggling to believe any of it. These men seemed to know every hidden path that ran through the palace grounds.
The horses thundered through a long stretch of road swallowed by darkness. It was deserted, shrouded beneath thick overhanging branches where the light of the palace torches could not reach.
If the queen had truly orchestrated this escape, she would have ensured these men knew every secret exit, every concealed gate, and every seldom-used passageway designed centuries ago for the royal family and high-ranking officials to flee in times of siege.
Gerard knew such routes existed but he had never imagined he would live to use one.
He was still in shock even when they slipped past the final perimeter unscathed, nor when the trees grew thicker and the night air colder. His disbelief only deepened as the palace disappeared entirely from view, swallowed by distance, while their horses continued to fly across the terrain.
After what felt like hours of enduring the sharp jolt of each hoofbeat against his injured leg, they finally slowed to a stop at a bend in the road. A footman stood waiting beside a gleaming, ostentatious carriage, its polished surface reflecting moonlight. It was the kind of carriage only a noble would dare travel in.
The cloaked stranger who had ridden with Gerard dismounted first and gestured for him to do the same.
"This is as far as we were instructed to go," the man said, pointing toward the waiting carriage. "He will take you the rest of the way. No one will stop a carriage like that, not if they believe a noble sits inside."
Gerard couldn’t hide the confusion in his expression, though he held his tongue. He was simply relieved he would no longer have to endure the agony of horseback travel. His leg throbbed relentlessly, each jostle sending sharp stabs up the length of it. A carriage, especially one so lavish, offered the promise of comfort he desperately needed.
The footman stepped forward, opening the carriage door with practiced ease, while Gerard’s rescuer mounted their horses again. He watched the two men ride off into the night, their cloaks merging with the darkness. He had not seen their faces properly, had not learned their names. If they passed him in broad daylight, he would never know. freewebnøvel.com
Turning back, he forced himself into the carriage. Doubts still gnawed at him. Everything had happened too quickly. He didn’t know his rescuers, nor did he know the footman who now sat front of the carriage.
He could flee, Gerard considered it for a heartbeat. The footman carried no visible weapon, and Gerard was a trained fighter. But how far could he run on a damaged leg before collapsing into the waiting arms of the guards? Before being dragged back to the dungeons to be tortured all over again?
His choices were painfully limited. So when the carriage door closed with a soft click, he exhaled a harsh breath and attempted to relax muscles that felt wound too tightly. The rhythmic rocking of the carriage did little to soothe his nerves. His mind raced faster than the wheels beneath him.
Hours passed. The carriage eventually slowed, then stopped. Gerard leaned toward the small window, trying to catch a glimpse of what awaited him. He saw little more than faint firelight flickering between the trees.
Moments later, the door swung open. The footman appeared, face unreadable.
Gerard stepped out carefully, his boots sinking into the soft earth. A small log cabin sat a short distance away, nestled among towering trees. A thin plume of smoke wafted from a fire burning quietly outside.
"Where have you taken me?" Gerard demanded, suspicion sharpening his tone. He opened his mouth to ask more but the sound of approaching footsteps cut him off.
He turned instinctively and froze.
His entire body went rigid. Because there, emerging from the shadows of the trees, was Remin.
Alive and whole, walking toward him with wide, hopeful eyes.
For a long heartbeat, Gerard simply stared, disbelieving. It felt like seeing a ghost in the flesh.
Remin broke into a run and bounded toward him, and Gerard could only blink, still uncertain if his eyes were truly seeing or if exhaustion had driven him into hallucinating.
But Remin did not disappear. He was real.
He knew that Remin had not been among those Prince Ragnar’s troops had arrested after the ambush, so he had assumed that his second-in-command had been among the fallen that night. Still, Gerard had foolishly clung to the fragile hope that Remin had somehow managed to escape.
Seeing the man now made Gerard’s chest tighten and swell at once. Relief crashed through him so hard that he stumbled forward on his injured leg, throwing his arms around the man he had known for years.
"How?" Gerard rasped, voice breaking as he held Remin tight.
"I’ll explain everything later," Remin assured him, his voice low but steady. "Right now, there’s someone here you have to speak to."
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